MOUSE, AN INVITATION,
Get The Party Started
by JoAnn Baca
“Found it. Going!” Mouse insisted.
Jamie tried to explain. “It wasn’t meant for you. You can’t just use somebody’s invitation to something.” She read the address. “It’s in Greenwich Village.”
At a loss, Jamie suggested, “Let’s ask Vincent.”
But Mouse snatched the invitation and ran off. Sighing, she followed, hoping at least to help him get out of trouble.
* * *
“Welcome!” The smiling doorman ushered Mouse into the house.
Jamie, shocked, waited on the street. Hours later, Mouse came out.
“Only guest! Made birthday kid happy! He’s like me. Mom cried.”
How had he sensed it? Jamie hugged him.
by Tasha Lawson
A woman spied Mouse on the subway fiddling with a gadget. She handed him a flier with a date and time.
Greenwich Village – Art Exhibit.
“You should go!” Jamie told him. He shrugged, noncommittal but curious.
The exhibit did have exhibits on display, but they were unlike any art Mouse had ever seen. Every marble pedestal held a working engine or machine – functional but beautiful masterpieces in shining chrome, copper, and silver.
Mouse took it all in without a word. The woman from the subway approached and asked what he thought.
“Better than good,” he said, smiling. “Best art ever.”
by Katie A
“Vincent!” Mouse hollered, running into Vincent’s chamber.
“You have to go! Perfect!”
“Slow down, Mouse.” Vincent said. “Catherine and I are right here. You needn’t shout.”
“Sorry. Cool party, costume party, at bookstore in the Village.”
He gave Catherine the card. “Guy says you know the place.”
777 was written at the top of the invitation.
Catherine smiled. “Yes, I know the place.”
Vincent, looking over her shoulder, said, “So does Kristopher.”
“I’m sure the invitation was his idea.”
“Guy with cap and cool jacket,” Mouse offered.
“That would be Kristopher,” Vincent agreed. “We can hardly decline.”
Mouse raced through the tunnels toward Vincent’s chamber.
“Vincent – look! Jamie made invitation for Mouse! Meet her today at White Horse Tavern – Greenwich Village.”
“The invitation is beautiful, made from the heart. White Horse is a bar where Dylan Thomas, one of my favorite poets, used to go,” replied Vincent.
“Poet, romantic, this meeting is like a date! Mouse needs to get ready, okay! Flowers for Jamie! Mouse will now feel what it is like to have love.”
With these words, he ran out of the chamber as quickly as he had appeared, leaving a very dazed, but pleased, Vincent.
Right Place, Right Time
by Linda S Barth
“Cool costume, bro!”
“Perfect!” His girlfriend beamed at a young man about to pass by their long line outside the Waverly Theater. “You’re gonna win for sure!”
Mouse hesitated. Were they talking to him?
“Win what?” He frowned. “Why?”
“You’re kidding, right?” The boy pointed to the marquee. “$100 for best costume! But you need an invitation.”
Mouse’s shoulders slumped. “No invitation.”
The girl grabbed his arm. “We’ve got one – come with us!”
Mouse grinned. A pretty girl, a new pal, $100, plus a free movie – and all just for looking like Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves?!
Whoever that was!
by Rebecca Gibson
The train passed Greenwich Village.
“Far,” Mouse murmured nervously.
Jamie leaned past him to look out the subway window. “Next stop.”
“Where are we going?” Mouse bounced in his seat with excitement.
Jamie couldn’t refrain any longer, although her invitation was meant to be a surprise. “The Museum… of Ice Cream,” she said. Her voice was cautiously quiet in the crowded car, but her eyes shone with excitement and delight.
Mouse stared, unbelieving. “Ice Cream Museum?” His forehead creased. “We can just look, or eat?”
“We can eat as much ice cream as we want.”
“Best birthday ever,” Mouse whispered.”
An Unexpected Friendship
By Tunnel Writer
The saxophone player recognized him right away. He tried to get his attention, but the boy was too fidgety and kept hopping from foot to foot. It was getting late, and he knew it was time to go.
“Music neat,” Mouse said.
The saxophone player smiled as he took apart his instrument.
“You like the music?”
“Would you like to see my record collection?”
Mouse nodded again.
It didn’t take too long to get to his brownstone in Greenwich Village.
Mouse picked up a picture of the helper with another man.
“That’s my best friend, Louis Armstrong.”